


Tiger

by irena_adler



Series: Watson [30]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Longing, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 19:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12217191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irena_adler/pseuds/irena_adler
Summary: Will ponders the meaning of Don's gift.This takes place in the middle of Looking for Love, after Will and Don have quarreled but before the baseball game.





	Tiger

**Title:** Tiger **  
Character:** Will **  
Rating:** PG **  
Summary:** Will ponders the meaning of Don's gift. **  
Disclaimer:** Not my characters, not my world, making no money. **  
Feedback:** Yes, please! Feed the author!  
 **A/N:** This takes place in the middle of [Looking for Love](http://irena-adler.livejournal.com/16252.html), after Will and Don have quarreled but before the baseball game. Thanks to my beta.

Will was sitting at his desk, waiting for a phone call, when the inter-office package dropped onto his pile of mail.He glanced at it, expecting to see a brown envelope with yet more paperwork, then his heart stuttered.

He grabbed the package and stared at it.The return address said – and continued to say, no matter how he blinked – ‘Don Eppes, LA office, FBI’.Will set the package down where he could stare at it some more.It was a square box, about a foot long in each direction.

“Will?” someone called.Will looked up to see fellow DEA agent Martinez standing there, frowning.“Shall I call bomb squad?”

“No, no,” Will said quickly.“Just a surprise from an old friend.Didn’t expect it.”

Martinez eyed him, then looked at the package.“Don Eppes? Doesn’t he run the local Feebs?”

“Yeah,” Will said, then repeated, “Old friend.”

“What did he send you?” 

“I don’t know,” Will said, and with a supreme act of willpower, took the package and shoved it into a drawer in his desk.He didn’t want to open it with Martinez or anyone else hanging over his shoulder.

“You should open it,” Martinez said.“Or else I’ll have to report a suspicious package.”

Will growled, pulled the box back out of his drawer, and shoved his chair back.He stood up and pushed past the surprised Martinez.He stalked out of the office then realized he didn’t know where he was going.He changed direction and headed to his car.

Reaching his Explorer, he opened the door and climbed in.He set the package on the passenger side seat and returned to staring at it.

It had been a month since Don had stormed out of his house, a month of restless nights, work-packed days, too much drinking.Will had gone over their fight in his mind hundreds of times.He’d questioned Don’s competence and Don had fought back.Will had never let anyone get away with calling him a whore before, but he’d give Don one time.If he did it again, Will would be forced to break his jaw.

Will leaned forward and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. _Who am I kidding? Don could call me five times a whore if he’d just smile at me again._

Will sighed.He’d finally gotten to the point where he was thinking about Don only every other minute.He’d cursed, scolded, yelled at himself for being in love with a man who he hardly knew, a man who was so afraid of being homosexual that he’d almost gotten himself killed.There was no possible future with Don Eppes, no possibility that Don would even agree to be friends.During those endless, too-short days when Will had nursed Don, there had been moments of real camaraderie, real connection.But the fear of bisexuality was too big for Don.He had chosen, and made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Will and what Will represented.

Now Don had sent him a package.Will lifted his head from the steering wheel and looked at it.Biting his lip, he pulled a knife from his pocket and sliced through the tape.

Sitting inside, on top of a pile of bubble-wrap, was a simple white card.It said, “Thanks. Don.”Will turned the card over and over, looking for some sort of hidden meaning.Finally, he returned to the box.He carefully unwrapped the object inside, feeling like it was indeed a bomb as Martinez said.It was heavy and solid.

The last piece of bubble-wrap pulled away and a cool stone figure sat in Will’s hand.His breath caught.It was a thing of pure beauty and grace, a tiger carved from orange and black stone, captured in the instant of leaping.About the size of his fist, somehow the tiger seemed to be in motion, the sculpture fairly glowing with energy and animal joy.He carefully lowered the figure to his lap as if he was afraid that it would run away.

A tag at the bottom of the box said that the sculpture was simply called, “Tiger Four,” and it was made of Flame Creek granite from Finland.It also gave the artist’s name and website.Will made a mental note to look it up, and set the tag aside.

Returning to the tiger, Will ran a careful finger down its cool, smooth shape.He had no doubt it was an expensive gift.What the hell was he supposed to think of this?What was Don trying to say? _He’s just saying ‘Thank you’ for saving his life.Nothing else._ He stroked the tiger again, remembering how Don’s skin had felt under his hands.Between the wounds, his skin had been warm and firm. _And that’s the only time and only way you’re going to get to touch it …_

Will sighed and sat back against the seat.He lifted the tiger to his face and examined it.“Well, Tiger Four, what am I gonna do with you?”He thought he’d like to have it on his desk at work, since his home was already heavy with memories of Don.He couldn’t even take a shower without thinking of Don’s naked body before him, Don’s hair running through his fingers.

He gritted his teeth and returned to the question of how to deal with the tiger.He couldn’t just take it back into the office today because Martinez would figure out it was in that package from Don.He’d take it home for a few days then bring it in, claiming it was from one of his sisters.

That decided, Will set the tiger back into its box.He then gave into the urge that he’d been fighting since he saw the name on the package.He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.Carefully protected and hidden between two pieces of cardboard was a small card.He drew it out and stared at Don’s Stockton Rangers baseball card.It had only taken buying a box of a hundred miscellaneous Stockton Rangers cards off eBay to find it.He felt like a stalker whenever he looked at it, but he had wanted a picture of Don and wasn’t going to follow Don around with a camera.He wasn’t that much of a stalker … yet.

The Don Eppes had who played pro baseball was smiling straight at the camera.He didn’t have the shadows behind his eyes that he did now.He looked so young and unmarked.Will ran his finger over Don’s smiling face.

_I have to see him again,_ he realized with sudden certainty and a sinking heart. _I have to see him and talk to him again._ If Will was very lucky, seeing Don again in real life would shatter Will’s fantasy image, banish this near obsession … _near?_ … and Will could get back to where he was before he ever laid eyes, or hands, on Don Eppes.

Will tucked the picture back away and focused on the problem – how to meet Don in a situation that was both non-threatening and natural.He thought about it from the point of view of a suspect that he wanted to ‘accidentally’ run into.What did he know about Don?

It couldn’t be work related.Will’s DEA team suddenly needing to work with Don’s FBI team wouldn’t fly unless some unusual case came up.

There was Don’s father and brother.Will contemplated Alan Eppes.Will had read the senior Eppes’s dossier in his ongoing obsession with the junior Eppes.Alan had been somewhat of a radical anti-war protester in the 60s and was unlikely to warm to any overtures of friendship that Will the Fed might offer. _He must hate what his son does for a living._ Will shuddered, knowing too well what parental disapproval felt like, and moved on to Charles Eppes.

Charlie was a fascinating case.In fact, Will had only been able to read a small part of the government’s file on him, since his own security clearance was only high versus stratospheric.He knew that Charlie worked regularly with the FBI – one of the big reasons he’d gotten kidnapped by the Russian mob.He had also worked with the NSA, the CDC, the DOJ, and pretty much anybody but the DEA.Again, it would have to be an unusual case to have the DEA call in the brilliant mathematician, and Will couldn’t manufacture one for the asking.Could he somehow reach him at CalSci?Probably not.Will didn’t consider himself an idiot and he’d always done well in his advanced math classes at college – no small claim considering the high-level college he had gone to, but he was an idiot when compared to Charles Eppes.Most humans were.So taking a class from Professor Eppes was unlikely, and would hardly seem casual if it was.Don knew that Will was aware of his brother Charlie, and would see any overture there as an oblique attack.

What about any of Don’s coworkers?He’d met several of them on various occasions but had no strong connections.He didn’t even know where the Feebs liked to hang out for beers.

Will sighed.Damn if he and Don almost worked for the same agency – he couldn’t figure out how to get close enough to him to talk to him.He reached for his wallet again, thinking that was the only way he was going to see Don … Then he froze.

_Baseball.Of course!_

Will would bet money that Don played on the FBI’s baseball team.After so many years in baseball, he’d want to keep his hand in.Also, the very competitive agency teams wouldn’t allow a former pro player in their midst to not play on the team.Will sat up straight, feeling excited about this new angle.Will hadn’t played on the DEA’s team last year but had the year before that.He was sure he could get back on the team in some role, and the DEA always played the FBI at least once.

_Not until at least June._ Will grimaced.Could Will survive that long before seeing Don?Well, he didn’t see much choice.Don needed time to heal, anyway, and maybe, just maybe, get more comfortable with the idea of being bisexual.

Will rubbed his hands together and contemplated the prospects.Just being in the same ballpark didn’t guarantee that he’d get a chance to talk with Don.Will knew the stats on Don’s baseball card by heart and Don had played almost all of the infield and outfield positions.The only way that Will could be sure he’d be within conversational distance of Don, regardless of what position Don played, was if Will was the catcher.Will shook his head.He didn’t think he’d be able to get into a catcher’s crouch for nine innings every game.Besides, the DEA already had a great catcher, assuming that Simon hadn’t stopped playing for some reason.The only other choice was as a pitcher.He’d be ninety feet from Don, but at least he’d be able to force Don to look him in the eye.

But pitching … Will hadn’t pitched since early high school and he hadn’t been particularly good then.Maybe it was an advantage that baseball season was months away.If he was going to be good enough to be a starting pitcher for the FBI game, he had his work cut out for him for the next few months.

Will smiled. _A project!Something to do other than not stalking Don._ His mind focused in on the logistics of the task, breaking it down and analyzing it like training for an undercover assignment.It didn’t matter that this particular assignment wouldn’t involve physical danger - it would involve a great deal of emotional danger.

Picking up the box that had brought him such confusion and hope, Will climbed out of his car.He locked the box in the trunk and walked slowly back toward his office.He’d have to come up with a plausible answer for Martinez about what was in the package from Don.He’d have to carve some time out of every day to work on pitching.He’d have to see if Simon would be willing to help him.But Will felt a lot more likely to be able to make it through the next few months than he had an hour ago.

His step was light as he headed back to work.He’d always felt better with a plan, no matter how far-fetched or dangerous.He pictured Don as he was now, buff and muscular, in a figure-flaunting baseball uniform and a smile lit his face. _Boys of Summer, no_ Boy _of Summer, here I come._

__


End file.
